Flashing Crimson
by Nidhoegg
Summary: Response to Lia Walker's challenge. Jane and Lisbon are ontheir way to a crime scene, when a truck changes their plans drastically.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Okay, okay. I know, I said, this was going to be a one-shot. And then I started writing and it got longer and longer. So, now, I'd say, about two or three chapters total.

So, this is in response to **Lia Walker**'s challenge **Jane/Lisbon Accident** from the plot bunny forum. Hope you like it. And, guys, reviews make me happy, so please, tell me what you think.

**Disclaimer: **No money made.

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**Chapter 1**

"Are we there already?"

Agent Teresa Lisbon was glad she was sitting behind the wheel. Otherwise she would likely have done something she would have regretted later on.

"I swear if you ask one more time I'm gonna stop and you can walk to the scene!"

Her foot unwillingly pressed a bit harder on the gas, while she was using every bit of self-restraint to ignore the smirking consultant riding shotgun.

"Okay, okay."

Lisbon thanked whatever god was listening for the silence descending on the car.

"What about a game?"

To good to be true.

"Jane!"

"What? I'm bored. You won't let me drive and I can't show you a trick while you're behind the wheel. But a game doesn't request you looking anywhere than the road."

/Don't kill him, you might still need him. Don't kill him, you might still need him./ She forced herself to cling to her mantra.

They were heading for the Mineral Bar Camping ground outside Colfax where two campers had found a rather sudden end. Prior Lisbon had made the grave mistake of doubting one of Jane's vibes on a case. As a result the blonde consultant hadn't stopped talking since they got into the car. Alone. The other agents were driving there with another SUV, so they could part if necessary. Which led them to their momentary situation.

"What about word guessing? You think about something and I have to guess it?"

She shot him an exasperated sideways look.

"No? Okay, hm, let's see, how about _Mother went shopping_? Up to that?"

"Jane, I mean it. Shut. Up."

Again silence settled on the large SUV, but just as the first reprieve it didn't last long.

"What about this one, I start with a word and you state the first thing that comes to your mind, then I state the first thing that comes to my mind when I hear yours and so on?"

The image of him walking to the crime scene through the woods was getting more and more tempting. Instead, the dark-haired agent decided to ignore him, hoping naively that he'd stop on his own.

"Apple-pie!", he suddenly proclaimed happily.

Lisbon tore her eyes away from the road to stare at him as if seriously doubting his sanity.

"Now, what's the first thing you think about?"

Jane smiled broadly at her, like a child on Christmas. She shook her head, but couldn't quite hide the small grin tugging at her lips. It really was a good thing that Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt weren't present. She highly doubted her ability to take on the whole bunch.

Oh, but for god's sake...

"Alright. Thanks Giving. Here, happy now?"

"Greatly. Okay, Thanks Giving.... Stuffed Turkey."

Lisbon was telling herself strictly that she was only doing this so he wouldn't ask again if there were there already. Because if he did, the senior agent could guarantee for nothing. Yet, there was a small smile on her face, betraying her efforts.

"Knife."

"Lisbon, Lisbon! The poor bird!"

Jane seemed to have the time of his life from the way he was beaming. At least he was enjoying this trip.

"That your next word, Jane? Poor bird?"

"What, no, no. Just thinking about the connection here. Knife, so - Steak."

The lead agent spared her companion another side glance.

"You hungry, or what?"

Jane though only gave her one of his brilliant smiles. He wasn't going to tell her what the first thing was when he thought of a knife. No, Red John really didn't fit into their small happy moment. He would try to make sure that it stayed that way.

"A bit, yea. Mind if we stop somewhere?"

He cocked his head, the typical _Jane_-sparkle in his eyes.

"Later."

"Huh."

"What?"

"That's your word?"

"Jane!"

Lisbon exhaled slowly. She had to have done something really heinous in a past life for karma to punish her with one Patrick Jane.

"Lisbon?"

"Fine! My word's cow, okay? Cow."

"That's interesting. Did you know that our normal cattle belong to the biological subfamily bovinae? They are directly related to the bison, the water buffalo, the yak and even spiral-horned antelopes. Amazing, isn't it?"

"Mind-blowing."

"It is. There was a documentary about it on TV last week. It was impressive."

Agent Lisbon shook her head. She knew he wasn't sleeping well, but seriously? Who in their right mind watched documentaries on cows?

"Your turn, Jane."

"Ah, yes. How about antelopes?"

The car ahead of them suddenly braked and turned into a smaller side-road without warning, forcing the black SUV to slow down. Attention solely focused on not rear-ending the idiot in front, Lisbon answered without really thinking.

"Hot."

"Seriously?", Jane chuckled. "You find antelopes hot?"

"What? No. They live where it's hot, so..."

"Sure", he smiled placatory, but that teasing glimmer didn't diminish from his icy blue eyes. "So, hot it is."

Patrick was tempted to say _you_, but wasn't sure how she would take it, so he settled on something neutral.

"Sun."

"Light."

"Clear."

"Excuse me?", Lisbon spared him a quick look.

He smiled softly, leaning back in his seat, for once turning his attention to the passing nature outside their vehicle.

"Yea, in sunlight, everything looks clear."

"Very philosophical, Jane."

"Ah, well, I have my moments", he smirked cheekily.

Lisbon shook her head. The enigma of Patrick Jane would forever puzzle her. One moment he was serious, spouting off fortune cookie wisdom, the next he was a little boy, playing tricks on everyone not fast enough to out-run him and then there were moments when he was retreating behind his shields, a fortress that made Fort Knox look like a doll house. The mood swings itself wouldn't have been a problem, irritating, yes, but manageable. What made Jane difficult was the speed in which he could change from out-going goof to cold-blooded avenger.

The lead agent pushed her thoughts away. It wasn't her business to figure out the man next to her, it was a hopeless quest anyway.

"My turn", she offered him a smile; "I choose lake."

"Loch Ness."

"Scotland."

Jane chuckled.

"What?"

"Kilts."

Unbidden an image of a certain smart mouthed blonde dressed in a tartan skirt rose in Lisbon's mind, causing a slight hiccup in her breaths. She was just glad that Jane couldn't really read her thoughts.

"I'm afraid I know what you're thinking of", his slightly disgusted comment came on cue.

They were driving along a calmer stretch of the road now, up ahead another street joined theirs, but as far as eyes could see there wasn't another vehicle.

Therefore Lisbon thought it safe to throw her companion a highly amused look.

"Oh, yea? And what-"

A sudden screeching sound interrupted their banter. Both occupants of the black SUV needed a moment to pinpoint the source for something that sounded suspiciously like screeching tires. Unfortunately, when they found it, it was already too late.

Unseen from where they had been coming, a large truck had driven up to their road, going far over the speed limit.

Assumptions were never good when driving, but Agent Lisbon had thought it safe to take away her gaze from the road, just for one short moment. She hadn't anticipated a sleep-deprived truck driver. She hadn't expected another vehicle.

She just hadn't seen it coming.

The impact came on sudden. To a degree expected by the helpless occupants of the smaller vehicle, but still shocking in its velocity.

Patrick had noticed the change in Lisbon's expression. He had heard the screeching tires of a fast approaching car. Yes, Patrick had known it would be only seconds before something large, speeding and most likely deadly hit the passenger side of their black SUV.

More than once, Jane had been accused of having a death wish. It was true to some point, he always told himself. He wasn't afraid to die. But as the sight of a giant truck came rushing at him, a death omen more obvious than any fake psychic could think of, he found that he didn't really want to go.

It was a startling realization to say the least. But still it rang true. Not now. Not here.

He could picture himself smashed by a truck, road kill, so to say. It wasn't an appealing image. It didn't fit. When he died, it was to be by Red John's hand. Or his own.

But then, things never turned out like he planned, right?

And so, in the mere seconds remaining for clear thoughts, Jane didn't see his life flashing by. He didn't see his beautiful wife, his perfect little girl. He didn't have to open their bedroom door once again, as he did every night in his sleep. He didn't relive the unusual nervousness when he met the team for the first time or the incredible feeling of having done something right for a change when the first culprit was caught because of his help.

No, Patrick only wondered why it always took something really drastic to realize what was important. And he asked the universe silently just what he had done to piss off fate so royally that it chose this to open his eyes. Exaggerating much, huh?

And then it was over, the magic moment of clarity when normal people recalled their past and Patrick Jane thought of fate and irony.

The pain came piercing, like an electric charge, setting nerve endings on fire. Luckily it didn't last long. Adrenaline mellowed what would have been excruciating agony.

And then darkness claimed the blonde consultant, his mind shutting down to spare him the experience of being crushed by a metallic monster.

His thought process slowed, returning to their earlier game. _In sunlight, everything looks clear. _What about the opposite, then? What about the blackness stealing his vision? It was the last thing he thought of, before unconsciousness knocked him out completely.

/ ~~~~~~ \

Teresa Lisbon took a moment longer to comprehend the situation. And when she did, she felt as if she going to be sick.

The small agent had always seen herself as a damn good driver. She never had an accident; it just didn't happen to her.

It was happening now.

People under immense stress often told of a somewhat detached feeling, as if they had lost their connection to their body. They were watching themselves seemingly from the outside.

Teresa had never believed that to be possible. But right now, it very much felt like she had lost every control over her material shell.

She wanted to shout, cry, step on the break, or the gas. She wanted to do _something_!

But all she was able to do was staring.

Time seemed to have lost its meaning, as her eyes took in every detail on the steadily approaching truck front.

Jane also seemed mesmerized by the sight. Most likely he was thinking about Red John and how he wouldn't be able to hunt the bastard down now. Maybe he was blaming her.

And, hell, he had every right to!

Then suddenly, time snapped back to its usual pace and the impact shook their comparatively small car to the core.

Out of instinct, Lisbon turned her face away from the splintering glass, raising her arms to protect as much of her head as possible.

When the airbags reacted at the same time as the metal body of their SUV lost its fight and bended under deafening protest, she was sure that at least one rib was broken.

Gasping for air she fought against the white safety measure blinding her. If she was going to die, she at least wanted to see her end.

Something cracked loudly, making her flinch.

By now, her whole body was trembling. Glass was cutting into her arms and shoulder, her chest burned in spite of adrenaline coursing through her blood stream.

But what was even worse was the fact that she could neither see nor hear Patrick. Was he hurt badly? Was he - No, she couldn't even think about this possibility!

Another smashing sound and - fuck, why couldn't she finally lose consciousness?!

The truck seemed to push them further and further. If Lisbon listened to her gut, she'd have said, they had already crossed the border to Oregon.

Again, something gave way noisily, the SUV tilting slightly to the driver's side.

And then it was over. They had stopped.

/ ~~~~~~ \


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Sigh. This story hates me. It won't leave me alone! I write and write and write and there's no end in sight.... Ah, well. Three chapters, I'd say. Not more. I dearly hope that the final chapter will be finished by next week, but I doubt it. It's exam time and I've got tons of school work, sorry. I'll try my best, promise.

**Thanks: **I want to say Thank you!!! to all my lovely reviewers. You're the best! I usually reply to reviews directly, but as I'm so busy lately, I thought my time would be better put into writing this, so now I want thank you all at once. And because some of you asked: Nope, I've never been in a car crash. Lucky me. It's just my imagination running wild.

**Disclaimer: **No money made....

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**Chapter 2**

Unearthly silence was settling over the scene.

Lisbon wondered for a moment, if she had died and this was afterlife greeting her. But she quickly pushed the thought aside.

She was trapped somewhere, sandwiched between something hard and round in front and something relatively soft and broad in back. And she was sore. More so than she had been in a very, very long time.

The agent nudged her fumbled mind to work quicker, but her brain seemed to be uncooperative today.

Okay. One step at a time.

Where was she? The question was relatively easy to answer, after she opened her eyes which she hadn't realized were closed.

The sight that greeted her blurry vision was unpleasant, but informative.

She was sitting in a car. In the driver's seat if the steering wheel pinning her effectively against her seat was anything to go by.

Carefully, Lisbon then tried to move, starting with her fingers. Hm, not too bad. A tingling sensation was the only sign that not all was well. Next were her hands. Shallow cuts were stinging slightly, but it could have been much worse.

She proceeded like that, finding at least two or three broken or cracked ribs and a definitely broken leg. Oh, and not to forget a rather irritating head injury. Most likely a concussion.

The latter was also probably to blame for her scattered mind.

Now, she just had to find out what exactly hap-

"Oh my god", she whispered suddenly, her hoarse voice sounding eerily loud in the silence.

In a flash her memories had caught up with the situation and Lisbon immediately longed for the blessed ignorance of seconds before.

As fast as possible - which was about as fast as a snail's pace - she turned her head towards the passenger side, fearing what she would find.

Her eyes focused on the sight and a gasp escaped her lips.

Jane was clearly unconscious; his head slumped against the headrest, eyes closed. His normally dark blonde curls were tinged red and matted down with blood.

The beige jacket he had worn was ripped, his skin white as a sheet.

A lump was threatening to suffocate the dark-haired agent as she took in her companion's pallor. He was breathing, though, wasn't he?

Lisbon swallowed hard. He had to. He couldn't just leave her here. Not like this!

Okay, she had to stay calm. Concentrate on her training. Everything would turn out alright.

Shakily her hand reached over, gingerly touching his neck.

Breathlessly she waited, every muscle in her body tensing with each agonizing second. The trembling of her fingers made it complicated to feel anything. But it had to be there. Please, it-

There! A weak but steady rhythm under her fingertips and Lisbon was ready to break down sobbing in relief.

But, she knew it was too soon to rejoice. Jane might still be alive, but from the way he looked that tide could turn quickly.

So, what next?

Lisbon wanted to scream in frustration. Couldn't her brain choose a more convenient time to go off-line?!

In any case, she would first have to check how serious their situation was. Danger assessment. Shouldn't have taken her this long to figure that out, right?

Oh, well. Back to the problem at hand. Jane was still slumped in his seat, unmoving and for once oblivious to the world.

Lisbon carefully tried to scoot a little closer to the blonde, but the slightest movement sent daggers through her chest, reminding her that there was still an unyielding steering wheel holding her in place.

Gritting her teeth she tried again, but gasped as something shifted where solid bone should have been. The results of her efforts were black dots dancing in front of her vision and the loss of precious seconds. Knowledge gained from this? Moving was a bad idea.

Good. Well, not good, but anyway she would have to work it out with what she had.

Refocusing her attention from the finally receding pain to her companion, Lisbon slowly reached over as far as she could, hissing as her body protested. Carefully she started to feel along Jane's body, trying hard to ignore that it was _Jane's body_, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

/ ~~~~~~ \

In another equally black SUV, agents Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt were discussing about calling their boss or not.

They had started off at the CBI headquarters in a convoy, but shortly after, Rigsby had noticed that they hadn't packed any rations for the trip and insisted on stopping somewhere.

Cho had argued back that it would cost them unnecessary time and that they wouldn't drive far anyway, but when Rigsby was hungry - and that man was always hungry - he could behave like a _pouting little girl, indeed_, as Van Pelt had so graciously put it.

This statement made the agent first splutter, then turn bright red, before feeling deeply offended. Cho subsequently teased him until the tall agent snapped back, arms defensively crossed in front of his chest.

After that, Van Pelt had taken pity on him, subsequently siding with him and they had turned into a drive-thru.

Of course, when peace settled once more over the occupants of the car in form of their order arriving, Lisbon and Jane were already gone.

They got back on the road, driving in silence for a while, interrupted only by Rigsby's shy offers of a French fry to Van Pelt.

Slowly the traffic eased up and soon they had the street for themselves.

"Hey, you think, we should call Lisbon?", Cho asked out of the blue.

Rigsby shot him a quick look from the passenger side and shrugged.

"Why, we're still on the road?"

"Yea, but she'll want to know why we aren't behind them anymore."

Van Pelt leaned forward in the backseat to be considered part of the conversation.

"We're not that far behind them, are we?", she inquired.

"Well, I for my part don't want to be told off for hanging behind", came the reply from the driver seat.

Rigsby raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

"You don't think she will be angry, right?"

He only got a pointed glance from his friend.

Lisbon hadn't been the most balanced person after their last case and the silent arguments with Jane. It would have been very optimistic, bordering on insanely naive, to hope that after a car ride with only the two of them, their lead agent would be any happier.

The other two seemed to come to the same conclusion as Van Pelt quickly took out her cell phone and Rigsby grimaced slightly apologetically.

/ ~~~~~~ \

Teresa Lisbon was using all her years of training to remain as focused and calm as possible. She was pretty sure that several minutes had passed during her assessment of Jane's injuries.

Not once had the blonde reacted in any way, although Lisbon was sure her uncoordinated prodding must have hurt like hell. Yet, there hadn't been so much as a sharper intake of breath, nothing.

As a result, Teresa was slowly but surely starting to panic. Her repeated mantra to stay calm was only helping so much and her findings were adding their part to her worry.

From what she could tell, Jane had also a few broken ribs, a rather serious concussion, or worse, though Lisbon dearly hoped for the first, and a definitely broken arm. She couldn't reach anything below his waistline, meaning that she had no way of telling if his legs were hurt.

That was all she could find, but judging from his pallor there was a high probability of internal injuries. Jane was white as a sheet, the dark crimson decorating part of his face standing out starkly.

Lisbon was trying hard to think of anything helpful. What was clear even to her befuddled mind was that they needed help. Although this task might well prove to be more easily said than done, considering that for one, the small agent was still trapped and therefore banned from getting help personally. And Jane wasn't doing anything anytime soon, other than pose for a figure from a horror movie.

One eye fixed on her unmoving friend, Lisbon started to look around for anything that might work as an improvised SOS signal, but among the splintered glass, rugged bent metal edges and plastic shards she couldn't see anything useful.

Suddenly Lisbon flinched violently, immediately regretting her body's reaction when pain sliced through her nerves. A shrill ringing had penetrated the heavy silence. A familiar ringing.

"Cell phone!", she whispered, partly surprised, partly relieved.

Of, course! Why hadn't she thought of it sooner?!

Now, the question was, where the hell had the small device disappeared to?

For the moment Lisbon wrenched her attention away from the blonde next to her to look for the wayward mobile.

It took her a moment, before she located the sound. It was coming from the floor under the mangled steering wheel.

A disheartened sigh escaped her lips. The phone could as well have been down the Grand Canyon. No way was she able to reach under the very thing keeping her trapped.

But she wouldn't give up this easily! Now, she had a mission!

Her own cell phone might have been off limits, but there was a chance that Jane had secured his better than she had done, meaning it might still be in one of his numerous pockets.

Clenching her teeth against the pain moving around brought, Lisbon carefully reached over once more, patting the pockets in hope of finding a digital life-line out of this mess.

Her search produced a twelve-sided dice, a pack of cards, keys, his wallet and finally a slim mobile phone. It looked a little worse for wear, new scratches caused by tiny shards of glass leaving a mark over the otherwise clean display, but it was working and that was all Lisbon had hoped for.

By now, her own cell had fallen silent again and she briefly wondered if it had been one of the team already waiting for them in Colfax, but she pushed the thought aside. Thinking of ifs and whens wasn't helping their situation.

Just as she was about to punch in 9-1-1, the device went off, signaling an incoming call. In her surprise Lisbon almost dropped it, but she managed to keep hold of it, hastily pressing the accept button.

"Hello?", she knew she sounded ridiculous, but then and there she wouldn't have cared if it had been the Dalai Lama calling.

"Lisbon? What are you doing with Jane's phone?"

Van Pelt. Man, she had never been this happy to hear her junior agent's voice.

"I - We," she stopped, drew a deep breath and tried to bring her thoughts into a sensible order, before speaking again.

"Van Pelt, listen, I - I mean, **we**, had an accident."

A sharp intake of breath, followed by distant unintelligible voices answered her.

"Oh my god! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need help? Can we do something? Where are you?"

It was as if it all rushed out of her - like a dam breaking, making it difficult for Lisbon to follow. Finally the other woman needed to breath and the senior agent managed to get a word in.

"Van Pelt. Stop, okay?", Lisbon waited a moment before continuing, "Good," she also took a deep breath, although it hurt like hell to do so. "We are on Placer Hills Road, somewhere after Pinecroft. A-a truck. It broadsided us and....", she threw a worried glance at her companion, "we need help. Fast."

Again there were the distant sounds of Rigsby and Cho over a driving vehicle. Then Van Pelt's voice came through again.

"We're only a bit behind, we should see - Oh my god!"

Lisbon grimaced at the horror in her junior agent's voice. She had guessed that it looked even worse from the outside, but from the complete and utter shock in the other's exclamation it must have looked real bad - like _no way, anyone could have survived this _bad.

She sighed and softly, hesitatingly reached over again to carefully press two fingers against Jane's neck. A wave of relief washed over her when the rhythm was still there.

"Van Pelt?", Lisbon inquired after a stretch of silence.

"Yea. Yea, we're here."

The voice now also came from outside the car. It seemed her agents had parked their car and gotten out to take a closer look.

"The trucker is dead."

Cho. She would know that monotone voice anywhere. What shocked her was the news he pronounced.

In all the time that had passed since the crash, Lisbon had somehow completely forgotten about the driver of the truck. The fact that he was dead gave the situation a much more serious atmosphere. Unbidden her eyes once again focused on Jane. He would make it out of this. She would personally kick his ass if he didn't.

"Ambulance is on the way!"

Ah, Rigsby. As always trying to be the protector, hating to see his fellow team members hurt in any way.

"Lisbon?", Van Pelt's voice pulled her back to the fact that she still had Jane's phone to her ear.

"Yea, I'm here."

She lightly pinched the bridge of her nose, not caring at all that her fingers left bloody smudges on her skin. How had this day gone to hell this quickly?

"Lisbon, how bad are you hurt? Is Jane okay?", the young agent seemed to be close to the proverbial edge, her voice deeply affected by worry.

"Erm", very eloquent, Lisbon thought, but ignored it, "I'm not too bad, but Jane...."

She trailed off, by now staring openly at the blonde, willing him to crack open those cerulean eyes and crack some joke about how he had again gotten to her. The eyes stayed closed.

"I'm worried about him", she finally voiced.

It was all she could really say. And even this small admittance cost her dearly, leaving the dark-haired agent once more struggling for control over her feelings.

But she would have to face reality later. Hysterics, tears, whatever her body and mind needed, had to wait.

For now, only the present problem counted. And the problem, the issue was to get Jane to a hospital. Quickly.

"Lisbon!"

The agent looked up, phone still pressed to her ear, although she didn't need it anymore. Van Pelt, together with Rigsby was carefully approaching the remains of their SUV. Lisbon could see them now through the cracks in what was left of their windshield.

Somehow the sight of someone familiar, of someone helping, took a heavy burden from her slim shoulders. She wasn't alone in this anymore. And damn, that felt so much better.

"Hey", her voice sounded weaker than she would have liked.

"Hey", Rigsby answered, by now standing at her side window.

For the first time since the crash Lisbon took in the scenery outside their trap. Lush green bushes had obviously softened their journey, not to mention the rather steep ascending hill right next to them.

And Lisbon realized with a start, they had been damn lucky. A few feet ahead, she could make out a massive tree.

She didn't want to picture what she and Jane would look like now, had they crossed such a tree's path. It definitely wouldn't have been a pleasant sight; that was for sure.

"Lisbon, how - Oh...", Rigsby's voice trailed off with an unusually frightened note.

Lisbon followed his stare, landing on her injured passenger. Quickly, she looked back again, fighting the lump in her throat.

"Get us out of here", was all she could tell him. It sounded more like a plea than an order, but right there it didn't matter.

Van Pelt had fought her way onto the jagged pieces left of the hood and was now peering in through the windshield.

"I don't know if it's wise to move him", she said, her voice strained.

Lisbon found her worried eyes before settling her gaze again on their consultant. Maybe it really wasn't the smartest thing to move him, but seriously, what choices had they?

Jane needed help as fast as possible. Sure, they could wait for the emergency personal to arrive and assess the situation, but how long would that take? Would it be too long for the blonde?

Lisbon shook her head slowly. She wouldn't risk waiting any longer. Her gut feeling was telling her to get out and she'd be damned if she didn't listen to it.

Thus decided, she relayed her plan to her fellow agents who swallowed hard but agreed.

Albeit it was a difficult decision, the execution proved to be the real problem.

Van Pelt stayed where she was on the hood of their former car, keeping an eye on Jane, while Rigsby started to attack the driver's side door. The metal groaned, joining in the agent's agitated huffs, but it didn't bulge.

"Cho!", he finally yelled, admitting defeat.

The Asian man hurriedly scrambled over to his friend's side, grimacing slightly at the sight of the once proud SUV.

"Lend me your hand please", Rigsby panted, gesturing towards the door.

Cho quickly took in the situation, his usually grim features darkening further, before he determinedly knocked out what little glass had remained and gripped the frame.

"On three", he said.

"One."

They both steeled themselves.

"Two."

Their grip tightened.

"Three."

Together they pulled with all their might, the door screeched and finally surrendered under their combined efforts.

When it burst open, the two agents stumbled backwards, landing in a tangled heap on the soft ground.

Lisbon let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. With the car door open, the feeling of being trapped eased considerably.

She felt lighter somehow, being able to look outside.

The feeling didn't last, though, as reality set back in. And reality was that their situation hadn't improved yet.

Carefully, the small woman tested her confines, but her ribs quickly reminded her to stay put.

By now, Rigsby and Cho had regained their footing and were hovering over her, trying to find a way to free her.

"How about we slowly put back the seat? Perhaps the mechanism's still working", came Rigsby's suggestion.

Cho took a moment to study the interior of the car, before giving his consent. Both looked to Lisbon for her opinion on the matter.

Wearily she nodded, already clenching her teeth, expecting the next few minutes to be filled with agony.

She was right.

When the two guys prodded the lever and started to lower the seat, a wave of piercing pain rushed through her body, making her gasp and shut her eyes against it.

Her fellow agents stopped at her reaction but after a curt nod from their suffering boss they carefully continued.

After what felt like an eternity, the pressure from the steering wheel was gone and the pain was slowly easing again. Enough so, that Lisbon felt able to carefully start moving towards freedom.

Rigsby hastily helped her climb out of the car, holding her from exhaustion trembling body, so she wouldn't fall and aggravate her injuries.

Her right leg was broken, forcing the dark-haired agent to lean heavily on her coworker.

Meanwhile, Cho had taken her place, climbing into the vehicle to get a better look at Jane who was by now looking even paler if that was possible.

From where Lisbon was, she couldn't see the other's face, but from the rigid set of his shoulders she concluded that it didn't look good.

Cho swallowed at the first real look he got at his friend. Jane was pale as a ghost, his breathing shallow. Crimson blood seemed to mock the agent, from various cuts and rips.

Though he didn't want to admit it, from what he could see, it bordered on a miracle that the blonde was still alive. And he feared that it would take a wonder of biblical dimensions for him to stay that way.

"How do we get him out?"

Van Pelt's insecure question roused the usually calm agent from his initial shock.

He took a deep breath, starting to search for the best way to free their partner from his predicament.

He didn't like what he found.

"We'll need to lift him up and out through the driver side", he stated flannelly.

From the sharp intake of breath he could tell that the young woman thought the same thing he did. They were both praying silently that they wouldn't cause more damage than was already there.

Cho's gaze flickered to meet the red-head's and after a second of contemplation they nodded. It was risky, but they didn't really have a choice.

Carefully, they set to work.

Van Pelt ripped away the already halfway gone windshield to be able to reach into the car. Cho corrected his stance, so he would be able to safely keep hold of the other man.

Then he softly tried to find a place to hold on to Jane without causing harm, while the red-headed agent did the same from up front.

Out side the car, Rigsby realized what the others were up to and slowly set Lisbon down on the floor to help them.

It went slow. A meticulous task that they all refused to fail.

Finally, with sirens already coming closer, they managed to carefully lay Jane down in the grass next to the car.

Outside the vehicle in sunlight, he looked even worse and all agents were immensely grateful for the arrival of an ambulance.

Running high on adrenaline, the team had to force themselves to stay back, as EMTs swarmed around their wounded partners.

Lisbon was immediately starting to snap at the young medic, ordering him to take care of Jane, she wouldn't go anywhere.

Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt smiled tiredly at each other. This was so typical of their boss. It was calming them a great deal to see this tiny bit of normalcy surface.

But their relief lasted only briefly as a statement from one of the EMTs made their blood run cold.

"He's stopped breathing...."

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**A/N: **Ah, so sorry. I know I'm evil. Must be the super boring history stuff driving my crazy. School is a bitch!

Please, please, please! Leave a review. Tell me what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Oh, man, I'm so sorry for the delay. My life is crazy right now! But here it is - tadaa!!! - the final chapter. I'm already into a new story, but you'll have to wait for it a while, because I will be on vacation next week, starting Saturday.

A huge THANK YOU!!! to all my lovely reviewers. Without your support this chapter would have taken much longer. You're awesome!

So, now, I hope you like it; it gets a bit sappy at the end, but oh well! And please, tell me what you think, yea?

**Disclaimer: **No money made. Unfortunately....

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**Chapter 3**

Teresa Lisbon stared at the group of medics, not able to believe what she heard. The EMT's shout had spurred the others on, causing a flurry of activity to ensue.

Lisbon felt numb.

An invisible bubble seemed to have formed around her, blocking out everything except the pale blonde man she could make out between emergency personal and their equipment.

Her thoughts screeched to a halt, demanding she wake up from this nightmare.

She didn't.

No. Nonono! Jane wouldn't, couldn't just go now!

How was she supposed to go on, knowing she, Agent Teresa Lisbon, had killed her friend?! How was she supposed to look at his couch, interrogate a suspect or drive anywhere without him there?

"No", her voice sounded foreign to her ears.

"Don't you dare leave me!", it hardly came out as a whisper. "Don't you dare!"

She didn't know how long she sat there, didn't see the medics intubate the blonde, didn't hear them declare it safe to move out.

Lisbon only felt the vacuum around her ease when they actually started to carefully lift Jane onto a stretcher.

"I", she cleared her throat before stating, louder this time, "I'm coming with you!"

Two pairs of eyes belonging to a paramedic each settled on her. Determined to not be refused her request, the dark-haired agent scraped every ounce of stubbornness together and put it all into one pointed glare.

The medics took the hint and hurriedly came over to help her up and to the waiting ambulance.

And maybe, just maybe they had planned on taking her anyway. Injuries and all that stuff.

Lisbon though took a moment to pride herself on her no nonsense glares before obediently following the EMT's lead.

Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt had waited just as breathlessly, but when the situation was being taken care off and they knew that their boss, too, would get looked after, the agents retreated back to their own SUV, leaving the scene to Highway Patrol and local Police.

They all had another place to be and that was the closest hospital.

In the car, they took the same seats as before, none of them intent on losing time with getting the seat into an acceptable position.

Cho started the car, while Van Pelt pulled out her cell phone once more, dialling Minelli's number to let him know that the scene at Colfax would need a different team.

/ ~~~~~~ \

Meanwhile, Lisbon sat unmoving next to the stretcher in the ambulance, eyes locked on Jane's chest, willing the slow rise and fall to continue.

One of the medics was bustling around her, trying to get her to lie down and let him take care of her wounds.

But the agent was deaf to the world. The only sound penetrating her consciousness was a steady beeping noise, bearing witness to every ounce of life left in the blonde consultant.

She never noticed how crammed the space was in the back of the vehicle, never wondered if she might be in shock and that that might be the reason she felt so strangely detached from her body.

Place and time seemed to have lost their meaning. Lisbon felt like she was floating which she knew was impossible.

So maybe this was a dream? A nightmare, harmless to the real world but lethal for her psyche. Perhaps, if she held onto that thought, she would come to believe it eventually.

Believe that she just had to blink and everything would be alright again.

Because this, this whole fucked up situation, it defied all reason. True, Jane had an inimitable talent for getting himself in trouble, but he always got out of it unharmed.

Not this time, though. This time, it hadn't been Jane who had screwed up. It had been her. And now her friend and colleague was seriously hurt.

Lisbon had no idea how long she had been sitting there, imitating a marble statue.

To her it felt as if aeons had passed in which her sole focus lay on the man in front of her.

Finally, though the ambulance slowed and the activity changed from trying-to-keep-him-alive-till-we-get-there to getting-ready-to-move.

It pulled her out of her stupor a bit, allowing her to take her eyes off Jane for a moment and take in the situation.

The up to this point steady rhythm of beeps chose that moment to declare its protest.

A long, never-changing beep suddenly filled the car.

The paramedics didn't lose any time and quickly went about fighting the flat-line, while Lisbon could only stare.

Her own heart seemed to freeze and at the same time it tried to compensate its partner's pausing by beating twice as fast.

She didn't feel the car stop, but when the doors burst open and a flood of sensations befell her overtaxed senses, the agent couldn't help but flinch violently, forcing herself to avert her gaze as the first bout of electricity charged through the blonde's body.

By now she was sure that shock was claiming her, making her breath hitch and grey spots dance at the edge of her vision.

Time stopped completely for a seemingly eternal moment of clarity. And in these few seconds Teresa Lisbon was certain that she had killed the one person she couldn't bear to lose.

The guilt and pain were suffocating, stealing her ability to force air into her lungs. And she wasn't sure if she wouldn't welcome the darkness right now.

And then, just as she was readying herself to meet up with her partner on the other side, the sweetest sound reached her ears, lifting the weight from her chest and allowing vital oxygen to fill her bronchia.

Jane's heart was back to working. He was back.

Lisbon could only sit there, completely exhausted both physically and mentally, and stare as the medics hurriedly brought Jane inside. She followed him with her eyes, praying to everyone that might be listening to get him through this.

She was so focused on the leaving stretcher that she didn't notice the young paramedic trying to get her attention.

"Ma'am?"

He gently touched her shoulder, hoping that the dark-haired woman wouldn't rip off his head or puke on him or faint or something.

Lisbon was startled by the touch and wrenched her eyes off the hospital doors to meet the gaze of another EMT.

She heaved a sigh, wearily noticing that her own injuries were finally making themselves known with a vengeance.

Realizing that she wouldn't get around a thorough examination, she nodded slightly to the nervous man and let him take over for now.

/ ~~~~~~~ \

Usually Kimball Cho was a calm, law-abiding driver. He guaranteed a safe drive and therefore often landed behind the steering wheel.

This time, though, the Asian was positive that he had broken every speed limit and a whole encyclopaedia of traffic regulations on the way from the scene of the accident to the hospital.

Rigsby and Van Pelt had at first been rather shocked that their friend was flooring the gas, but had quickly decided to keep their surprise unvoiced when the car made a risky swerve to the right and earned honking protest.

Silently making sure that their seatbelts were securely fastened, the two agents had prayed that the hospital was close by.

Indeed they arrived soon and only moments after the ambulance.

Cho made a screeching halt in the parking lot, bringing the car to a standstill across two spaces.

Without a word, but a heartfelt sigh of relief from Rigsby and Van Pelt, they filed out of the SUV and into the ER.

Walking purposefully towards the desk at the back of the room they caused the nurse on duty to fidget under their intense stares.

"CBI", Cho stated, taking the lead. "We're here for information on Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon. Car crash."

The red-haired nurse in her mid-thirties swallowed, but obediently checked her computer for the names the agent had told her.

"Here. Erm, Miss Lisbon is being taken care of as we speak, there isn't anything on her condition yet. And Mr. Jane is being taken up to surgery. That's all I can tell you, sorry. You can wait here if you want and someone will inform you as soon as we know more, okay?"

The agents didn't seem too happy about her words, so she added a small apologetic smile, before asking her next question.

"May I ask you, why these two are of interest for the CBI? Do we need to put up special security measures?"

The stern Asian man gave her a blank look, before he realized what she really wanted to know. She was worried that their latest patients were dangerous in any way.

"Agent Lisbon is our boss and Jane is a consultant. You don't need to worry."

The nurse breathed a bit more easily at these news.

"Well, then, why don't you sit down in the waiting area. I'll make sure someone will come for you later, okay?"

The agents nodded a bit reluctantly, but left after a moment.

They slowly walked over to the ugly plastic chairs and the waiting began.

/ ~~~~~~ \

Patrick felt as if he was floating. His body seemed to weigh a ton, while his spirit was light as feather. It was weird.

Everything seemed muted, blurred and far away. A bit as if he were under water.

He was warm. And yet he felt as if he should be shivering with cold.

He was seemingly alone. Yet there was a hummed melody surrounding him.

He knew in this state he couldn't move or protect himself. Yet he felt safe in a way he hadn't in a very long time.

Questions rose in his mind.

Where was he? How did he get there? What had happened?

And with a start he realized, he didn't know.

Wasn't that a disconcerting fact? He, Patrick Jane, had no idea whatsoever.

This he needed to change. Quickly.

But one step at a time. What was the last thing he could remember?

His mind was murky like the thick brew of an ancient swamp. Difficult to wade through with will-o'-the-wisps dancing here and there, beckoning for him to follow and lose his path forever.

But Jane wasn't called a mentalist for nothing. He concentrated, unnerved by his uncooperative brain.

He remembered a car. But he hadn't been driving, no.

Lisbon. She had been there, too. Had she been the driver?

What else...?

A game. They had been playing a game. The association game. Always fun and so unbelievable insightful.

So, how had Lisbon and him playing in the car led to him feeling like he was drugged up to his hair-tips?

And just like that, the fog cleared a bit. It made click, so to say.

A truck, a crash and after that only darkness.

.....Oh.

It was all he could think of for a second.

Was he dead?

But Jane quickly dropped this line of thought. Death meant the end of everything, so he wouldn't be floating around here if that was the case.

Which in return meant he was still alive.

Good.

Patrick wasn't too fond of the idea of being killed by a truck. On the passenger side of all places! A man couldn't be too careful with his reputation.

Now, the question that really bothered him was, when he was obviously still among the living, how had Lisbon fared?

The very thought of her, hurt or worse, caused him almost physical pain. She had to be okay! She just had to!

It would be too cruel of fate to once again rip away the one person he couldn't stand to lose. And where would be the fairness in letting him live, but not her?

The melody had stopped.

What a pity, it had been kinda nice to listen to. But now instead of a strangely familiar voice humming, there was an incessant, incredible irritating beeping noise.

A rather fast beeping noise.

Voices sounded again, closer this time, but still unintelligible.

And slowly, so very, very slowly Patrick started to lose this weird detached feeling, becoming one with his body again.

He immediately wished it back.

Pain seared through his chest, his head, his arm. Practically everything seemed to be throbbing.

He had never been this sore in his life!

A tired groan escaped his lips and Jane noticed how dry his mouth felt. A horrible taste assaulted his taste buds, as if something had crawled into his mouth and decided to die there.

Oh, couldn't someone just knock him out again? Please?

Suddenly there was a slight pressure in his right wrist and something cool rushed into his bloodstream.

Pain killers, most likely. Strong ones, hopefully.

"Jane?"

He would have started had the agony that was his body played along.

"Patrick?"

The same voice. A woman. Someone familiar.

"Lssb?"

Dear god, was that his voice?! Had someone poured acid down his throat or something?

Jane had yet to open his eyes, but the realization that Lisbon was there was highly comforting. She was able be here with him, so she couldn't be hurt too badly, right?

"Patrick, open your eyes. Please."

Please? Lisbon was saying please? To him?!

"Whaaa?"

Okay, perhaps he should postpone talking for a while. His vocal skills were lacking significantly right now.

Sleeping sounded like a good idea.

"Patrick", she was almost whining.

Her tone made the blonde stop. Lisbon didn't whine. Never.

So perhaps something else had happened and she was hurt, bleeding, desperate for his help.

Yea, okay his drugged up mind was running wild a bit, but still it was enough to get the CBI consultant to put effort into opening his eyes.

His lids fluttered. Light burned into his retina and Jane immediately regretted his decision.

A soft, feather light touch registered in his befuddled mind.

"That's it", Lisbon's voice sounded higher, full of dizzying relief.

Jane blinked up, his vision blurred. Coloured fogs were moving around his, but the dominating one was white.

A sharp septic smell was now penetrating his nostrils, confirming his conclusion of being in a hospital.

"Patrick?", her voice again, a bit uncertain this time, and he thought maybe he should try to do something more entertaining than staring at the ceiling.

Fighting the heavy metal band's drummer practising one hell of a solo behind his eyes, Jane took a second to prepare himself, before turning his head in slow motion and lazily grinning up at the beaming woman.

/ ~~~~~~ \

Lisbon was smiling brightly, almost giddy with joy that the blonde had finally decided to rejoin the living for good.

Ten days had passed since the accident. Lisbon had been forced to undergo various medical tests and after had been admitted.

Officially, she was still a patient at Sutter Auburn Faith Hospital, but after one day when she had been put under by a cocktail of doctor's finest, the agent had insisted on staying with Jane.

It was irrational. Completely ridiculous. And she would easily have been able to wait in her own room for news on her friend's condition.

She just didn't want to.

And as days crept by and there was no sign of him waking up, Lisbon had more and more often snatched up her crutches or burrowed a wheel chair and had spent her time at the former psychic's side.

It also gave her time to think.

The doctors had told her multiple times how damn lucky they had been.

She had come out of the crash with a complicated broken leg, four broken and one cracked rib - god only knew what the difference was - a concussion and various cuts and bruises.

All in all, Teresa could agree, she had been lucky.

What she wouldn't ever be able to agree on, though was Jane being lucky.

Sure, he was alive, but especially on the first two days it had been touch and go. A dance on a very thin line.

The blonde consultant had had serious internal injuries, going from pierced right lung to heavily bruised kidneys. In addition his head once again proved to be a problem. Namely, a rather bad concussion, resulting in his imitation of Snow-white.

With all this a few broken bones seemed like shallow fleabites.

So, Teresa had sat there, watching, hoping. She had started humming slightly after a few hours, but had stopped when her very tired team members had filed into the room. They, too, had been constants over the passing days, offering strength and comfort.

The case at Colfax was taken by another team, they told her. And they also approached the subject of their crash, albeit reluctantly.

The truck driver had been coming from Dallas and hadn't put in a stop in over twenty-four hours. Still, these news were doing nothing to console Lisbon.

She should have been able to do something! She should have seen it!

So when the others left again, the small woman stayed.

She started talking, telling her for once silent companion about everything and nothing.

Once she even approached the tricky subject of her family. But when there still was no reaction, she went back to safer topics.

Jane's silence was driving her crazy. Under normal circumstances she would have been thrilled if he shut up for a while, but now.... Now she longed for one of his smartass remarks, his contagious smile and laugh.

But he was only lying there, pale and silent.

After a bit over a week, the doctors, Scotty and Spock, as Cho had come to call them, finally removed the ventilator that had breathed for Jane during the dark hours of his uncertain days.

It was a relief for them all. The machine, as life-saving as it was, bore on their psyche heavily.

Lisbon had hoped, though that the feeling of that wretched tube being removed would be enough stimulation for him to wake up.

He didn't.

And with each passing hour, her hopes were being replaced by despair.

On day 9, late in the evening, finally, she couldn't stand it any longer. She cried.

Ignoring the stabbing pain her sobs evoked in her chest - in fact, welcoming it in some skewed way - she spent over an hour bent over the side of his bed, clutching his hand and begging for him to come back.

And still there was no reaction.

In the end, she cried herself to sleep, with her head next to his arm and her hand intertwined with his.

On the morning after, on day 10, she couldn't find the warm tingling hope any longer that had held her upright up to that point.

Softly, unthinkingly, Lisbon got closer, looking at his still features, trying to recall every detail from his laugh.

And just like that, without any conscious thought behind it, she leaned forward, closer; until her lips were lightly touching his.

The moment seemed to last forever, so full of paradox emotions.

When her mind caught up, though, Lisbon quickly broke the contact. Her fingers softly touching her mouth, savouring the feeling.

Strangely, she didn't feel embarrassed. No, it had felt right. Oh, so right.

The silence was pressuring down on the room and after a moment, she started singing. Quietly, so not to bother anyone outside.

And she only stopped when suddenly the usually regular beeping of his heart monitor sped up.

At first, Lisbon was pulled back to these horrible, horrible moments in the ambulance where the many beeps had changed into one deadly sound.

But this time was different.

Spock - Dr. Cumberlain, she reminded herself - burst into their equilibrium, followed by some nurses.

Activity ensued, which Lisbon only dared to interrupt with a low inquiry, a name, whispered longingly.

When those glacier eyes finally blinked open, she thought she would burst with joy. Jane had come back to her. He had come back.

His voice might have been scratchy from the ventilator and the lack of use, and sure, he still had a long recovery ahead, but now, Teresa was certain that he - they would make it.

Everything would be okay.


End file.
